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1At about the week's end from his return to Mansfield, Tom's immediate danger was over, and he was so far pronounced safe
2as to make his mother perfectly easy; for being now used to the sight of him in his suffering, helpless state, and
3hearing only the best, and never thinking beyond what she heard, with no disposition for alarm and no aptitude at a
4hint, Lady Bertram was the happiest subject in the world for a little medical imposition. The fever was subdued; the
5fever had been his complaint; of course he would soon be well again. Lady Bertram could think nothing less, and Fanny
6shared her aunt's security, till she received a few lines from Edmund, written purposely to give her a clearer idea of
7his brother's situation, and acquaint her with the apprehensions which he and his father had imbibed from the physician
8with respect to some strong hectic symptoms, which seemed to seize the frame on the departure of the fever. They judged
9it best that Lady Bertram should not be harassed by alarms which, it was to be hoped, would prove unfounded; but there
10was no reason why Fanny should not know the truth. They were apprehensive for his lungs. A very few lines from Edmund
11shewed her the patient and the sickroom in a juster and stronger light than all Lady Bertram's sheets of paper could do.
12There was hardly any one in the house who might not have described, from personal observation, better than herself; not
13one who was not more useful at times to her son. She could do nothing but glide in quietly and look at him; but when
14able to talk or be talked to, or read to, Edmund was the companion he preferred. His aunt worried him by her cares, and
15Sir Thomas knew not how to bring down his conversation or his voice to the level of irritation and feebleness. Edmund
16was all in all. Fanny would certainly believe him so at least, and must find that her estimation of him was higher than
17ever when he appeared as the attendant, supporter, cheerer of a suffering brother. There was not only the debility of
18recent illness to assist: there was also, as she now learnt, nerves much affected, spirits much depressed to calm and
19raise, and her own imagination added that there must be a mind to be properly guided. The family were not consumptive,
20and she was more inclined to hope than fear for her cousin, except when she thought of Miss Crawford; but Miss Crawford
21gave her the idea of being the child of good luck, and to her selfishness and vanity it would be good luck to have
22Edmund the only son. Even in the sick chamber the fortunate Mary was not forgotten. Edmund's letter had this postscript.
23"On the subject of my last, I had actually begun a letter when called away by Tom's illness, but I have now changed my
24mind, and fear to trust the influence of friends. When Tom is better, I shall go." Such was the state of Mansfield, and
25so it continued, with scarcely any change, till Easter. A line occasionally added by Edmund to his mother's letter was
26enough for Fanny's information. Tom's amendment was alarmingly slow. Easter came particularly late this year, as Fanny
27had most sorrowfully considered, on first learning that she had no chance of leaving Portsmouth till after it. It came,
28and she had yet heard nothing of her return--nothing even of the going to London, which was to precede her return. Her
29aunt often expressed a wish for her, but there was no notice, no message from the uncle on whom all depended. She
30supposed he could not yet leave his son, but it was a cruel, a terrible delay to her. The end of April was coming on; it
31would soon be almost three months, instead of two, that she had been absent from them all, and that her days had been
32passing in a state of penance, which she loved them too well to hope they would thoroughly understand; and who could yet
33say when there might be leisure to think of or fetch her? Her eagerness, her impatience, her longings to be with them,
34were such as to bring a line or two of Cowper's Tirocinium for ever before her. "With what intense desire she wants her
35home," was continually on her tongue, as the truest description of a yearning which she could not suppose any
36schoolboy's bosom to feel more keenly. When she had been coming to Portsmouth, she had loved to call it her home, had
37been fond of saying that she was going home; the word had been very dear to her, and so it still was, but it must be
38applied to Mansfield. That was now the home. Portsmouth was Portsmouth; Mansfield was home. They had been long so
39arranged in the indulgence of her secret meditations, and nothing was more consolatory to her than to find her aunt
40using the same language: "I cannot but say I much regret your being from home at this distressing time, so very trying
41to my spirits. I trust and hope, and sincerely wish you may never be absent from home so long again," were most
42delightful sentences to her. Still, however, it was her private regale. Delicacy to her parents made her careful not to
43betray such a preference of her uncle's house. It was always: "When I go back into Northamptonshire, or when I return to
44Mansfield, I shall do so and so." For a great while it was so, but at last the longing grew stronger, it overthrew
45caution, and she found herself talking of what she should do when she went home before she was aware. She reproached
46herself, coloured, and looked fearfully towards her father and mother. She need not have been uneasy. There was no sign
47of displeasure, or even of hearing her. They were perfectly free from any jealousy of Mansfield. She was as welcome to
48wish herself there as to be there. It was sad to Fanny to lose all the pleasures of spring. She had not known before
49what pleasures she had to lose in passing March and April in a town. She had not known before how much the beginnings
50and progress of vegetation had delighted her. What animation, both of body and mind, she had derived from watching the
51advance of that season which cannot, in spite of its capriciousness, be unlovely, and seeing its increasing beauties
52from the earliest flowers in the warmest divisions of her aunt's garden, to the opening of leaves of her uncle's
53plantations, and the glory of his woods. To be losing such pleasures was no trifle; to be losing them, because she was
54in the midst of closeness and noise, to have confinement, bad air, bad smells, substituted for liberty, freshness,
55fragrance, and verdure, was infinitely worse: but even these incitements to regret were feeble, compared with what arose
56from the conviction of being missed by her best friends, and the longing to be useful to those who were wanting her!
57Could she have been at home, she might have been of service to every creature in the house. She felt that she must have
58been of use to all. To all she must have saved some trouble of head or hand; and were it only in supporting the spirits
59of her aunt Bertram, keeping her from the evil of solitude, or the still greater evil of a restless, officious
60companion, too apt to be heightening danger in order to enhance her own importance, her being there would have been a
61general good. She loved to fancy how she could have read to her aunt, how she could have talked to her, and tried at
62once to make her feel the blessing of what was, and prepare her mind for what might be; and how many walks up and down
63stairs she might have saved her, and how many messages she might have carried. It astonished her that Tom's sisters
64could be satisfied with remaining in London at such a time, through an illness which had now, under different degrees of
65danger, lasted several weeks. They might return to Mansfield when they chose; travelling could be no difficulty to them,
66and she could not comprehend how both could still keep away. If Mrs. Rushworth could imagine any interfering
67obligations, Julia was certainly able to quit London whenever she chose. It appeared from one of her aunt's letters that
68Julia had offered to return if wanted, but this was all. It was evident that she would rather remain where she was.
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